


all tied up

by echomoon



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, mild bondage, shadeless!julia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 16:43:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13955757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echomoon/pseuds/echomoon
Summary: When Quentin won't leave her alone, shadeless!Julia decides to tie him up to get him out of the way but gets very distracted by it.





	all tied up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Worldbuilder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Worldbuilder/gifts).



> dedicated to and prompted by Rekter  
> this ended up way more involved and explicit than i meant for it to be, i was literally blushing so fucking hard while writing this. also this isnt betaed so if you see mistakes lemme know lol.  
> enjoy

“Julia, you can’t do this.” Quentin pleads.

The woman is currently tying him to a chair, after having stuck him to it with a spell when he got in her way one too many times.

“Clearly I can.” Julia replies, mildly amused. “Now shut up, I’ll untie you when I’m done. Probably.”

She walks back over to her spot across the room, to a table covered in books. She had been _trying_ to do research before Quentin came in, with all his _feelings_ and _trying to help her get better_ nonsense. As if she needed help with anything. She was the best magician on campus, even before she lost her shade. She tries to settle back into reading, but she still has a clear view of Quentin - mostly to make sure he didn’t die or something while tied up, she isn’t that heartless - and it’s proving… a problem, to say the least.

He’s listened to her about not talking anymore, which is nice, but he won’t stay _still_. She tied the knots fairly loose, all things considered, so he shouldn’t be having circulation problems, but there he is, wiggling around in the chair. The sight makes it hard to focus. Maybe it’s because his face has gone a little red with the effort, maybe it’s because his body straining against the bonds is catching her eye. After a few minutes, though, he stops, just gives up and bends his head down. His posture is… submissive.

Julia forces herself to look away, tries to focus on the pages in front of her. It’s important that she gets this ritual down. Very important. And yet… she glances back up at Quentin. Still in that position. Maybe she should check on him.

So she gets up, heads back over. His head jerks up at the sound of her footsteps.

“What now.” he says quietly.

She just looks at him, feeling… something strange. An emotion, stronger than anything else besides pleasure that she had felt since losing her shade. She places her hand on her chest, as if that will make it stop. She decides she needs to tie his hair back, too, to make it easier for her to make sure he’s okay.

She stands in front of him, pushes his head up. He doesn’t protest at the manhandling, just looks at her with those wide eyes. Julia puts a hand on either side of his face, gently brushes his hair back, then runs her fingers through his hair to pull it into a ponytail. He lets out a surprised noise as she does it. It’s a rough one, but it’s good enough. But Quentin, through all of it, just keeps looking at her, with his ever reddening face and open lips and shining eyes and fuck, she suddenly wants to kiss him.

So she does.

Quentin’s exclamation of surprise is stifled by her lips as she does it; he surrenders to her without protest. She wraps her hands around his neck, pulls him in more - a part of her knows the position must be uncomfortable for him, that the ropes make it impossible for him to lean in too much, but that just adds to her lust. She deepens the kiss until she feels him losing his breath, and then she pulls away.

She watches him try to catch his breath again, rakes her eyes over his body. His pants are slightly tented - either he never got over her or kissing and bondage just really turns him on. At this point, she’s honestly leaning towards both.

Her desire to work on her ritual has been taken over by a desire to absolutely wreck Quentin. He’s oddly pretty tied up like this, more so than usual, and Julia couldn’t deny that she has always felt some attraction towards him - whether it was being shadeless that magnified the desires, seeing him like this, or just a whim, she couldn’t deny how she felt. She didn’t want to.

She steps back from him, just a few steps, revels in his wordless protest when she breaks contact. She slowly takes off her jacket - she had felt like wearing layers all the time, recently, but seduction meant baring skin. Quentin looks like a deer in headlights, frozen with surprise, and it makes her smile.

“Quentin,” she says slowly, sultry, saunters up to him again; she stands so close, legs spread so that they are on either side of his knees, but far away enough that he can’t touch her - not that he could, bound. “Do you still love me?” 

“Julia, what -” Quentin swallows thickly, stammers his words. He can’t even get a full sentence out. “What -”

“Don’t hurt yourself, Q.” She jokes in the same tone, reaches out and touches his face. “It’s a simple yes or no. Do you still love me?”

He looks away from her, his face pained. She’s mostly amused by this reaction, and his silly emotions, but even still she’s not far gone enough that she’ll continue if he doesn’t still want her.

“...Yes.” He says finally, still refusing to look at her. “I never… never really stopped.”

“Good.” Julia says firmly, and sinks down onto his lap.

That gets his attention - he whips back to look at her. She almost coos - his eyes are bright with tears, how cute. But she just grabs his face again, laces her fingers into his hair, leans in close to him.

She can feel his breath warm against the skin of her neck as she whispers in his ear, “Then do you want to fuck me?”

“Holy fuck.” He replies.

“That’s not an answer, honey.” She chides him.

“Julia, why are you doing this?” Ah, there’s her Q, finally breaking out of his shock and giving her some fight.

“Because I want to. Do you?”

“...Yes” He admits.

She responds by kissing his neck, then his lips. She starts to unbutton his top, run her hands over his chest as she deepens the kiss. She can tell he wants to do the same for her, strip her down, touch her, but he can’t and that just heightens her pleasure, denying him that. She feels him grow harder beneath her as she rocks against him.

“Jules…” he groans.

“Yes?”

“Please - “ He starts, but she just pulls away from him again, slides off and down to kneel in front of him. She’s forced his shirt off as far as it can go, just adding to his binding - now she starts to stroke up his legs, forces his legs apart as far as they can go tied like this, but doesn’t go near his zipper.

“Begging isn’t very becoming of you, my king.” She teases.

“Let me touch you.” He all but growls in response.

“Mmm, no.” She says, and finally touches him. He keens at the contact, tries to thrust into her hand, but she lets go just as quickly.

She gets up, strips herself out of her jeans, but keeps her underwear and top on, then settles back into his lap.

“You’ll have to earn that.” she says, and positions herself so that the bulge in his pants is against  just the right spot for her to get friction. She wraps her arms around Quentin, forcing his face against her chest.

He responds by mouthing against the few spots of bare skin he can reach, just on the curve of her breast and then up to her neck. As he does that, she starts to move, shifting against him rhythmically. Pleasure builds up; she lets out a few little gasps. Quentin futilely attempts to push against her as well, but he can’t build up the motion.

She gives him commands: to kiss her neck, her lips, to be still, and each one he does immediately, consumed with the need to pleasure her, to listen to her, so she finally does what he’s plead for: with a snap she charms the ropes away, frees him to move. They fall out of the chair when, in his exuberance, he doesn’t realize that he’s free and tries to move against her again.

She laughs at him; he laughs at himself; their laughs melt back into lust as they look at each other.

“Quentin,” she says, the air around them heated with desire, “fuck me.”

And that’s all Quentin needs to hear before diving back against her, pushing her down onto the hardwood floor, covering her body with his own. He kisses her fiercely, then moves down her body, one hand going up her shirt and the other resting against the border of her underwear. He’s so gentle, even in his fierceness. It would be sweet, if Julia wasn’t craving something quite a bit more rough. She pushes his head down; it takes him a second to get the hint, but then he’s down between her legs, mouthing her through her underwear, the wet heat of his mouth so much better than what she had before. He pushes her underwear to the side, slides a finger up into her with no warning, but she’s dripping so much that it’s nothing.

She tears the sides the underwear open so that he can have better access, spreads her legs; he adds another finger and then licks against her clit, makes her moan. She lets him continue his ministrations for a few minutes, directs him by tugging against his hair, which is coming loose from that ponytail in such a haphazard way, until she decides that she really needs him inside her and tells him as much.

His mouth is still covered in her juices when he slides back up, but she kisses him anyway, lets him undress her the rest of the way and then pushes him down against the floor and straddles him, rests her soaking mound right on top of the side of his dick, slides against him a few times. He watches the way her breasts bounce, moves one hand up to grasp one, the other on her waist. It’s not much to her, but he’s clearly into it, because his dick throbs against her.

She smiles, then lifts off him for a second to position him against her and sinks down slowly. His face as she does is beautiful - closed eyes, mouth open like he’s praying, pure bliss. She bites her lips and starts to thrust, gets him deep inside her; when he’s in as far as he can be she curls over him - he moves up into a sitting position to meet her and they embrace. She hides her face in his neck, alternating kisses and cries of pleasure; his grip on her waist tightens with one hand, and the other roams her body; he’s whispering nonsense to her between groans. She’s overwhelmed with pleasure and when she feels herself close to cumming she grabs his neck, and pulls him into another kiss, sinks her nails into his shoulder, and lets herself go.

When she comes down, she’s still gripping Quentin by the nails, her head buried in his shoulder. She breathes in slow, mellows out over the minutes, loosens her grip, but keeps her head where it is until Quentin stirs.

“Hey,” he says softly, moving his head to the side trying to see her face. His arms are loose around her waist, their bodies melded together. “That, um.” 

“Was good?” Julia replies.

“Yeah.” He leans in to kiss her again; with the lust sated, she has less of a desire for it, but she lets him.

“We should get cleaned up.” She says, aware that the cottage is a public space and they’re lucky no ones walked in on them in the middle of the living room yet, but neither of them move.

 “I love you, Jules.” he says, lacking the hesitation of before. He looks at her with bright eyes, and she knows what he wants to hear in response, but the shallow emotions left now that lust isn’t her main goal don’t allow for it.

 “I know I used to,” she says, quiet, knowing it hurts him when he jerks away a little. She wraps her arms around him, makes sure he can’t move away. “You know I don’t… feel as much as I used to, Q.”

 “Then what-” he starts, and she can hear the anger bubbling in his voice

“Lust for you overtook me.” She says shortly, and then more gently, “Quentin… as much as I don’t feel… it’s stronger for you. Do you understand?”

He rests his head on her shoulder. “A little.”

“You’re… one of the most important things for me. That’s as close to love as I can give you.”

“If - when we get your shade back, will you feel the same?” 

“I don’t know.” She admits. “I hope so.”

“I hope so too.” Quentin replies.

She kisses him once more, and gets up off of him. She can feel their combined fluids leak down her legs, can see Quentin is sticky with them too.

“Come on, let’s go shower.” She says, offering a hand to help him up.

“Together?” he asks, surprised.

“Why not.” she shrugs, and he smiles at her - a hopeful smile.

They head up the stairs, naked, not even caring who might see them or their clothes spread across the cottage floor, holding hands.

**Author's Note:**

> catch me @echomoon or on the discord @ tcWB34e


End file.
